Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mexico and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing La Düsseldorf to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
Easy Going,
The Raincoats,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
Cal Tjader,
The Velvet Underground,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Bowie,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Starr,
The Standells,
Crime,
Anakelly,
Howard Jones,
The Durutti Column,
Cybotron,
John Lydon,
The Searchers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Clear Light,
World's Most,
Depeche Mode,
Fluxion,
X-101,
John Coltrane,
The Doors,
John Cale,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Country Teasers,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Max Romeo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
Reuben Wilson,
Warsaw,
James White and The Blacks,
10cc,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.